


We are but ghosts

by Thighz



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Body Dysphoria, Domestic Fluff, Gardens & Gardening, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Retirement, Sewing, old soldiers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-14 15:39:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14139144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thighz/pseuds/Thighz
Summary: At the end of it all, it's just about two old men who refuse to age gracefully.





	We are but ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for the 'Stories of Watchpoint Gibraltar Zine'! I want to give a shout out to [coelasquid](https://twitter.com/Coelasquid), who had the amazing brainstorm of Jack and Gabe cutting ties and retiring together. Which is where this beauty came from!
> 
> **Additional Info** : The body dysphoria tag is in regard to Gabe struggling with what his body has become. Not to any physical attributes, just to his wraith form. I didn't want to use the body horror tag, because there was no extravagant description of his body changing, just that he doesn't like it.
> 
> So without further ado,
> 
>  
> 
> _Enjoy_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gabe doesn’t know what he expects when he twists the lock to the front door of the condo. Dust, disuse, or hell, maybe it’s completely empty out of spite. It’s been a hot minute since he’s crossed this threshold and if he’s being perfectly honest, he wouldn’t blame Jack in the slightest if he never returned. 

Much to his surprise, however, the condo is spotless. It smells like pinesol and lemons, the tile under his boots shining in the waning sunlight streaming in behind him. He’s almost afraid to continue further into the living area. 

The couch is open and inviting- still a hideous shade of brown leather- but the pillows Gabe made are still there. The recliner near the front window is half-reclined, as if someone got up recently, but didn’t finish pushing it down. The small TV on the glass entertainment center is on as well, muted with a football game vibrant across the screen. 

He shuts the door with a soft click, sheds the layers of cloak and kevlar until he’s down to just his boots, pants, and a shirt. His skin is solid for now, mottled and graying, but no smoke is leaking at the moment. 

A noise stops him while he’s untying his boots, a rattle from the direction of the kitchen. Another sound, this one the scrap of ceramic and glass across wood. 

Gabe’s heart seizes in his chest and he hastens to finish the task. He toes the boots off quickly, hand pressed to the wall as he nearly trips out of them. His feet are bare across the cool, still slightly damp tile as he beelines for the kitchen, heart now in his throat. 

Jack’s standing at the sink when he arrives in the doorway. 

He’s dressed in PT gear sweats, a hole in the back of the right knee. A faded green shirt with a list of bands down the back, one of Gabriel’s old souvenirs. His feet are bare too, hands elbow deep in a sink full of bubbles and steaming water. The white of his hair is damp-  fresh from a shower most likely. 

Jack is haloed in the evening light from the kitchen window, which shows off their very tiny fenced-in backyard. 

A million words are on the tip of his tongue, ready to spill out and stain the floor. 

_ Where have you been? _

_ Why are you here? _

_ I thought you wouldn’t even show up after what I did. _

_ What I’ve done. _

“I can hear you thinking from here.” Jack’s voice is gravel rough, worse than the last time Gabriel heard from him. He sounds tired, worn thin by a war they’re both too old to still be fighting in. 

Gabe swallows, curls one of his hands into a fist, “Didn’t think you’d show up.”

“You told me I’d know when it was time to retire.” One shoulder goes up, a dish drops into the sink full of cool water and is placed on the checkerboard drying matt. 

Gabe’s afraid to cross the space between them. It’s been almost a year. 

“Wish it hadn’t had to go that far though.” Jack says quietly. 

Gabe closes his eyes, inhales sharply, “Talon doesn’t have just one leader, Jack. There were too many eyes on me.”

Jack glances over his shoulder, “Including Ogundimu.” 

“Especially Akande.” Gabriel nods, glances around the beige and purple kitchen. The dining table is set for two, oddly enough. Like Jack was expecting him  _ tonight. _

“Ordered take-out.” Jack nods to the table, “Should be here soon. Figured you’d be hungry and I’ve only been here a few hours. The place was a mess.”

Gabriel winces, mostly his fault. He’d come by a few times in the last couple of months, angry and bitter at everything that he had to do. What he’d had to do to Jack and Ana to prove his allegiance.

“So why are you washing dishes?” Gabe asks, taking a tentative step into the room. 

Jack hums, “Dusty dishes. Just wanted to wash them all off and make the place liveable again.”

Gabe crosses the rest of the space between them, stands at Jack’s back. He watches him  breathe steady, slow. His posture is open, but Gabriel still hesitates, hands hovering just behind Jack’s hips. He wants his arms around him again, to feel something  _ warm _ that wasn’t his shotguns or the ridiculous amount of layers he wore in armor.  

Jack shifts on his feet, sets another dish gently on the drying pad. 

Gabriel takes the plunge and wraps his arms around Jack’s chest. His body aligns with the hard line of his  and it is warm.  _ Warm _ and  _ solid _ and Gabriel presses his face into the back of Jack’s neck, letting out a shuddering breath. 

God, it feels good to be home. 

He closes his eyes and relaxes as Jack continues to move. The dishes and water make soft sounds and Jack’s shoulders shift under Gabriel’s chest. He  smells like old spice and lemons, one familiar and the other new.Gabe wants to sink into his skin and never leave, but he’s interrupted by a knock on the door. 

“I got it.” Gabriel mouths a kiss, open and wet at the juncture of Jack’s neck and shoulder. 

He walks back into the living room to open the door. A teenager is standing there with a whole cardboard box full of plastic bags unsteady between his arms. Gabriel catches it quickly and sets it on the back of the couch before the kid hurts himself. 

There’s a small stack of ones seated on the table next to the door and Gabriel picks it up. 

If the kid is shocked by Gabriel’s ruined skin, he doesn’t give anything away, just takes the cash from Gabriel and tells him to have a goodnight. The teen casts a wave over his shoulder and climbs into his run-down station wagon. Gabe watches him leave, a sense of normalcy sinking around him. 

The food smells mouth watering, so he steps back into the house and shuts the door. He gathers the box in his arms next and makes his way back into the kitchen, where Jack is draining the sink and rinsing his arms off. 

Gabe sets the box on the counter and starts pulling out bags until the box is empty. He tosses it next to the sliding glass back door, giving himself a mental reminder to take it to the trash can later. 

A hand settles at the base of his spine and Gabriel warms under it. 

Together they pull out the chinese and each one is marked with a specific food. They bring the boxes over to the table, pop them open and start eating. 

The silence lasts for about ten minutes before Gabriel can’t take it anymore.

He sighs, “Don’t you have questions?”

Jack’s faded blue eyes lift to meet Gabriel’s across the table, “Sure. A lot of them.” 

“Then ask.” Gabriel pleads, “You’re never this quiet, Morrison.” 

“Figured that was something left for another day.” Jack gives him a lopsided smile, “We have a lot to do to get this place liveable. Need food, more clothes,” He glances over his shoulder at the back yard, “Thought about starting a garden.” 

Gabriel swallows thickly, emotion clogging his throat. 

“Yea.” He nods, “Sounds good.”

 

 

-

 

 

Jack wakes comfortable. There is no hard cot under his shoulder, no  smell of dust and ruin. His head isn’t pounding, which is a first, considering how often he has to drink himself to sleep. 

There’s a solid presence at his back, a well-defined arm curled over his waist. He blinks awake slowly and tries to focus on his surroundings. Everything has gotten so fuzzy with age, except the goddamn sun apparently. He squints at the sheer curtains guarding the window and vows to replace them with blackout curtains. Those were still a thing, right? 

The body behind him shifts, grunts, a nose nudging at the back of his neck. A mouth follows and soft, barely there kisses pepper his exposed shoulder blade. 

He missed this. 

Jack allows his eyes to fall closed as he melts into the embrace. 

It’s been so long.  _ Too long _ . 

“We gonna have to go out for breakfast?” Gabriel’s voice is a rasp behind him, ruined from the degeneration of his body, but still distinct. It’s not the honeyed tone from their younger years, but it’s  _ Gabriel _ and that’s enough. 

Jack chuckles, “I told you we didn’t have food.” 

Gabe grunts, nips at Jack’s shoulder once and rolls onto his back, “You at least make a list of what we needed?” 

Jack rolls his eyes and climbs out of bed, joints protesting. He groans and hangs his head, hating the ache in his bones, and the popping of his knees as he rises to his feet. 

“You sound horrible.” Gabriel grunts from behind him as he pads over to the adjoining bathroom. 

“At least I’m not dead.” Jack snaps back. 

He can faintly hear Gabriel mutter ‘touche’ before the bed creaks and his footsteps disappear down the long hall, Most likely to use the half bath in the hallway next to the spare bedroom. 

By the time Jack’s done relieving himself and brushing his teeth, Gabriel’s loud, long groan erupts from the kitchen. 

Jack chuckles, joins him while tugging a button up plaid shirt over his chest. Gabriel is scowling at the coffee pot and the empty coffee canister beside it. 

“I told you we needed food.” Jack says. 

Gabriel turns the scowl on Jack, “You shoulda picked some up before you got here.” 

Jack frowns, “Maybe  _ you _ should have.” 

Gabriel mutters ‘touche’ again. He shuts the canister and Jack watches him pull on the same shirt and pants he had on yesterday. Looked like he didn’t come with anything else, meaning they needed a whole new wardrobe for Gabe. 

He scribbles it onto his list on the fridge, rips the paper free and folds it up into his wallet. 

“Ready?” 

“As I’ll ever be.” Gabriel grunts and his fingers rub over his cheek, “Should I really be going out like this?” 

Jack eyes him for a moment, before he backtracks to the bedroom and digs around in the closet. He finds one of Gabriel’s old hoodies at the top of a closed bin. It smells of storage and dust, but it’ll get the job done. 

He returns to the living room and hands it over. Gabe takes it, fingers rubbing the fabric, eyes scrunched together. 

Jack wonders if he’s lost in the last memory of wearing it. 

Warm and content on their couch, right before the fall of Overwatch. 

How the hoodie smelt of Gabe’s cologne and Jack’s aftershave when Gabriel threw it in his face and stormed out the front door. 

He can visibly see Gabriel swallow before tugging it on, flipping the hood up to hide his face. 

Before long, they’re locking up the condo behind them and Jack leads Gabriel around to the parking garage for the complex. 

“You have a car?” Gabriel frowns at his side.

“Just a rental.” Jack replies, pulling a set of keys from his pants pockets and unlocking a small white car near the front. 

They go clothes shopping first. Jack shoves Gabriel into multiple dressing rooms, making him try on just about everything in his size. 

Gabriel complains a lot, doesn’t see why he needs so many clothes.

“Don’t plan on leaving the house much.” Gabriel mumbles, plucking at a dark-grey t-shirt Jack yanked over his head. 

Jack tries a soft smile, “I know, but humor me.” 

Gabriel lifts an eyebrow in the mirror at him, “Wanting to show me off?” 

Jack laughs, sudden and sharp, before spinning Gabriel around and planting a kiss on his mouth. The wraith sighs into it, fingers curling at the base of Jack’s shirt. Jack feels like a teenager, making out in a dressing room stall of all places, but Gabriel tastes like coffee from the mall’s starbucks and the spices from the bagel they shared and it’s wonderful. 

When they part, Gabriel watches Jack for a loaded moment before stepping back to pull the shirt off. Jack pays for the clothing and drags Gabriel into a bathroom in the foodcourt to change, topping it off with a beanie tugged over his long locks. 

“Haircut when we get home.” Jack notes as they make their way back to the car. 

Next stop is the grocery store, where they argue over breakfast foods and coffee flavors. Gabriel wants the fancy shit and Jack just wants plain dark roast. It’s a familiar argument, one they’ve had a million times a thousand years ago. 

Jack missed the easy banter. 

It’s early evening by the time they’re wrestling the grocery bags inside the house. Jack instructs Gabriel to put all the food on the counters while he  takes the toiletries back to their bathroom. 

An hour later, Jack has a hot meal on the table and they’re digging in, glasses of cold milk between them. The years melt away, age and warring sides. He watches Gabriel scarf down his food and despite the ruined lines of his face and the constant frown he seems to sport, Jack’s chest tightens with a familiar emotion. 

He hadn’t been confident in his choice to come back here. Gabriel’s words to him after Egypt had been cruel, bitter. Jack’s heart ripping apart was far more painful than the shotgun blast to his back. 

Then, when the dust cleared and Jack was wrapped up and safe with Ana, his phone buzzed. No one knew the number and Jack had kept it that way. But the message had been from Gabriel, quick and clipped.

_ When I give the signal. This shit is over. Retire with me? _

_ Retire? _ Jack had laughed at that, startled Ana awake enough to ask if he was okay. 

He couldn’t retire. There were too many lives at stake, too many bad guys running around trying to ruin the world. 

Except-

“This isn’t our war anymore.” Gabriel says from across from him, “Stop thinking about it.” 

Jack flinches, sets his forks down, “Doesn’t feel right to leave like this.”

“You want to keep fighting me, Jack?” Gabriel hisses, his own utensils dropping, “Because I’m sick of being at each other's throats.” His hand darts across the table, wraps around one of Jack’s own, “I’m sick of pretending.”

“So hiding is the only option?” Jack mutters, “It’s the same as leaving them for dead.”

Gabriel gives an exasperated sigh, tightens his hold, “They’re big kids now, Jack. We can’t hold their hands forever.” 

It’s the truth and Jack knows it. 

He sighs, meets Gabriel’s eyes across the table, “Now what?” 

Gabe’s face melts into a grin, “Now, we start your garden tomorrow.”

 

 

-

 

 

Gabriel is a man of his word and at first light the next day, he leaves Jack asleep in their bed.  _ Their _ bed, before heading  off to the local hardware store. He keeps his head low, beanie tucked as tight around his face as possible, hoping no one can tell he’s technically not  _ alive. _

A young woman helps him load the soil and equipment into the back of their rental car. He thanks her profusely and asks her advice on which seed packets were best to plant this time of year. She’s happy to help, but frowns a little at the question.

“Shouldn't you….know about this before you do it?”

Gabe shakes his head, “I’m not the one doing it.” 

She brightens, “Oh! Well in that case-.” He listens to her ramble on about the right growing time for vegetables, how many seeds will turn out a proper patch, so on. He’s patient with her, trying to memorize all the information he can before returning home to Jack. 

After about thirty minutes of wasting her time with more questions, Gabriel thanks her again and heads home. 

The condo smells like frying bacon and syrup when he pushes through the front door with the potting soil. He’s stacked it up in his arms, plastic bag full of seeds dangling from his left wrist. He trips over his own boots trying to sneak in and one of the bags tumbles onto the floor. 

“Great.” He mumbles.

“Gabe?” Jack’s sleep-rough voice comes from the kitchen and a white head of hair pops around the corner, confusion on scarred features. 

“I just ruined your clean floor.” Gabriel stares down at the busted bag of soil. He glances back up in time to see realization cross Jack’s face before a smile breaks through.

“I’ll sweep it up in a minute. Let me turn the bacon off and help.” He slips back into the kitchen, the soft click of the stove turning off. 

Jack meets him at the door and takes a few of the bags out of his arms. They set them on the tiny concrete porch out back, empty except for a tiny lawn mower and a mini water hose. The soil smells wet and earthy and Gabriel watches Jack dig one hand into the busted bag, fingers wiggling in the black mess. 

“Got some equipment for you in the car.” Gabriel jerks a thumb in that general direction, “Trowels, pots, those little-.” He frowns, makes a square with his hands, “Fence things to keep it all in place.” 

Jack’s smile is so goddamn beautiful. 

Gabe kisses him.

The sun is warm on his cheek.

 

 

-

 

 

The days pass slow and calm. 

Jack forgot how good it felt to get his hands dirty, to feel the earth under his fingertips. He didn’t even bother with gloves. He can feel Gabriel watching him from the porch, beer bottle in one hand and lounging in one of the dining chairs. 

It’s a hot day, so they’re both in shorts and muscle shirts. He has a water bottle next to his knee and a stack of vegetable seed packets right beside that. He’s spent the last hour picking out the perfect sunrise to sunset ratio angle for the garden, then building the fence line and setting the soil. 

Jack can hear Gabriel take a slow sip from his beer, body shifting in the chair. 

He digs a section out for the cucumbers, the carrots, and so on. Gabe thought of everything. He probably had help, but it was the thought that counted. 

“Is there a pool in this place yet?” Gabriel complains from behind him. 

“Think there was one built a few years back.” Jack replies, squinting at his tomato set up, “Want to check it out?”

“Tempted.” Gabe mumbles, “You gonna be much longer?”

“No.” Jack shakes his head, makes sure all the racks are sturdy, “Thinking about a shower and couch time.” 

Gabe rumbles happily behind him, “Sounds like a plan.”

They end up ordering pizza, Jack too sunburnt and grouchy after his shower to even bother with cooking. Gabriel rubs aloe vera on Jack’s skin once they get to the couch. Jack munches on a slice of pizza and they watch shitty re-runs of 90’s cartoons and down two cases of beer. 

Jack forgets for a day, that there’s a war going on out there. Somewhere. 

His brain reminds him at night. 

He sits up straight in bed, sweat beading down the side of his face and chest pumping hard. His eyes are wild around the room, searching for an escape, knowing he’s being tracked.

“Jack.”

Gabriel’s voice-

_ Gabriel’s _ -

“Jack.” A hand, firm and gun-calloused, presses against his arm. 

He swallows the bile rising to his throat, looks down to his left where Gabriel is raised up on an elbow. His eyes are dark in the muted moonlight, curtain still too sheer for Jack’s liking, but at least he can see Gabriel’s face. 

His hand darts out, cups the sides, “What happened to you?” 

Gabriel’s face is so goddamn sad and Jack’s brain is still fuzzy, still on the run, “Just a dream, Jack.” The hand glides up Jack’s arm to his shoulder and guides him back into the pillows. His breathing is finally stabilizing, the smell of the room is too clean, too comfortable to be the shithole he’d been hiding out in. 

He puts a hand to his forehead, closes his eyes, “Sorry.”

“We’ve all got scars, Jack.” Gabriel reminds him softly, “Didn’t say this was going to be easy.” 

It’s not easy. Jack’s too used to being on the run, too used to scraping the bottom of the barrel and fighting for his life. He doesn’t know how to be like this anymore, with gardens and tv in the evening and Gabriel everywhere he turns. 

“We should get a dog.” Gabriel announces. 

Jack frowns, “No.”

 

 

-

 

They don’t get a dog, they get a parakeet. 

She’s dark grey, nearly black, with spotted white feathers on the backs of her wings. Jack coos at her through the metal of her cage where they set her up in the living room. She’s right next to the window, curtain parted just enough that she can see the outside world through the glass. 

“She’s not a baby, Jack.” Gabriel snorts, watching the older man stick his finger at here. She nips at it playfully, ruffles her feathers. 

“What are we going to call her?” Jack asks, digging around in a bag under her stand to find the food they bought. 

“Reaper, obviously.” That earns him a reproachful look. Gabe only grins in the face of it, “What?”

“No.” Jack pours the seed through one of the doors and the parakeet hops down to happily chow down. 

Gabriel crosses his arms over his chest, “Then what should we call her? Bird?”

Jack hums to himself, wiggles his finger at her again, “Bean.” 

“ _ Bean _ ?” Gabriel hisses, “What kind of name is that for a bird?” 

“A cute name.” Jack grunts. 

The parakeet nips at his fingertip again, nuzzles his knuckle. Gabe’s heart somersaults in his chest at the sight. 

“Fine.” He relents, arms up in the air, “Fine, but I get to name the next one.”

 

 

-

 

Gabe has his own nightmares. 

They strike quietly, like a knife to the back. 

He doesn’t wake Jack with his nightmares. 

He  _ is _ the nightmare. 

Waking up in a cloud of yourself is pretty disconcerting. It takes Gabriel far too long to get himself back together. He’s shaking by the time his body is solid and he’s curled up on the floor, back against the bed. He can hear Bean cooing in the living room, the metallic whirl of the air conditioner. 

His new home calms him.

Jack’s soft snores center him. 

He buries his face in his knees and prays for sleep.

 

-

 

The pool is amazing. 

Jack sighs as he sinks his head beneath the surface. Everything is muted under the water, but he can still see the fuzzy outline of Gabriel in a lounger. He settles at the bottom for a moment before breaching the surface again.

Gabe is laid out, bright red shorts on and shirt tossed over the back of his chair. There’s an umbrella shading his spot, a wine cooler in his left hand. His eyes are closed and his skin is completely at odds with the world around him. Too gray, too ruined, but no less beautiful. There’s gray in his hair now, temples peppered with it and curls tight to his head. 

Jack breast strokes to the side and drapes his arms over the concrete, water turning the rock dark. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Jack asks, a grin in his voice.

Gabe cracks an eye open, “I’m not getting in the pool, Jack.” 

Jack flicks water at him and it gains him an irritated grunt, “You’re the one who wanted to come to the pool.”

“Not to  _ swim _ .” 

“Bet you’d look good wet.” Jack tries, but it doesn’t work. Gabriel takes a slow sip from his wine cooler and goes back to ignoring the world around him. He reaches over to their little table and snatches a pair of sunglasses, puts them over his eyes. 

Jack snorts, “You’re in the shade.”

Gabriel flips him the bird and continues to nap. 

Jack does laps in the meantime, enjoying the water resistance against his old body. At least he’ll be able to stay in shape during retirement. Just in case the war ends up Stateside. He times himself in his head with each firm push with his feet. 

Gabriel doesn't stir from his nap.

Jack plans out dinner in his head, needs to water his tomatoes, give Bean some exercise through the condo. 

He pulls himself out of the pool after twenty laps, water flooding around his feet. He shakes the water out of his hair and grabs a towel to dry off his face. A bottle of water sits beside Gabriel’s six pack of fruity drinks and he uncaps it and downs the entire thing. 

“Mmm.” Gabriel hums, his hand brushes Jack’s scarred kneecap, “ _ You _ look good wet.” 

Jack swats it away, “Finish drinking your weird booze. I’m thinking burgers for dinner.”

Gabriel perks up, pushes his sunglasses up over his forehead, “Now you’re speaking my language, Jack.” 

Jack gathers up their towels while Gabe downs the rest of his bottle and grabs what’s remaining of the six pack. They make the trek back to their condo, the sun beating down on Jack’s exposed shoulders. He’s glad he wore sandals to the pool or the concrete walkway would be hell on his feet. 

Gabriel is humming beside him, bottleneck hooked between his fingers. His own sandals slap against the path. It’s all so normal, Jack isn’t sure what to do with it. 

“Why is his skin like that?” 

Jack pauses in his steps, only because Gabriel flinches. He glances behind them at two old ladies seated in little green lawn chairs on their front porch. They’re only three houses down from their own condo, Jack notes.

They’re both in floral dresses, sunhats atop their graying heads. 

Jack frowns, opens his mouth to say something not so nice back, but Gabriel beats him to it.

“Hey.” Gabriel points a finger at them, “We’re war heroes damn it. I look like this-.” He pauses, giving a dramatic flourish of his hand, “Because an Omnic shot me with some weird radiation.” Next is a finger gun and Gabriel fake pulls the trigger, “And bam. I look like a zombie.”

Both women look so shocked by the information.

Jack grabs Gabriel by his elbow and drags him down to their own home.

“You’re ridiculous.” Jack unlocks the door, fighting laughter even as he slips off his sandals. 

Gabriel tumbles in after him, dropping the wine coolers on the door table and wrapping his arms around Jack’s waist. Jack fights him, half-heartedly, even as Gabe twists them around and shuts the front door with his foot. He’s grinning up at Jack and it twists something in Jack’s chest so painfully he thinks he’s going to die. 

He kisses Gabriel instead, lips warmed by the sun and tongue tasting of strawberry booze. Jack probably tastes like pool water, but Gabriel doesn’t seem to care, he just melts into Jack’s chest, arms loose at his hips. 

They eventually part, kisses traded soft and fathomless. He steps back and Gabriel frowns, fingers curling into Jack’s sides.

“You want burgers?” Jack wheedles, “I gotta shower and get the patties ready.” 

Gabe let's go quickly, “I’ll join you.” 

Jack peers at him, “No. You can wait your turn. I’m not waiting till after dark to start making burgers.”

Gabriel lifts his right hand, “No distractions. Scouts honor.” 

Jack frowns at him, relents. 

Gabriel doesn’t hold his promise.

 

 

-

 

 

The sun has long past set by the time Jack finally puts the burgers on the tiny grill out back. Fresh patties on the hot grill sends a mouth-watering aroma through the back door, where Gabriel is chopping up fresh onions in the kitchen. He can hear Jack muttering to himself, voice low and deep. He allows himself the warmth of knowing that their late night burger grilling is because Jack  _ does _ look good wet and Gabe couldn’t help himself.

Small sacrifices. 

He finishes up the onions, moves on to the pickles. Jack comes in fifteen minutes later with a plate stacked high with burger patties and a content look on his face. He sets the patties on the table between their respective plates. Gabe grabs his newly chopped veggies and plops them down beside the meat as Jack gathers the condiments from the fridge. 

They settle in with a beer each, burger juice mixed with mayo dripping down the sides of their hands. The TV is low in the living room, Bean chirping to herself, the night breeze drifting in through a crack in the sliding glass door. Everything is a symphony of relaxing sounds that Gabriel feared he’d never get to live with again. 

They tag-team dishes. Jack puts soap bubbles on Gabriel’s nose every time he hands him a new dish to rinse. Their elbows bump and hips knock, the outer edges of their bare feet brush with every shift of their bodies. 

Gabriel hopes that this perfect day will follow him to bed. He hopes that he can sleep through the night without losing himself. 

He’s wrong. 

This time, Jack is awake, eyes wide as Gabriel struggles to pull his body back together. He’s failing, panic sweeping down the back of his throat like hot ash. His smoking body covers the bed and floor like oil and he  _ hates _ that Jack has to see this. 

He’s been hiding it for months. 

He wanted Jack to think he had this under control. 

“Gabriel.” 

One of Jack’s hands reach out, fingers slipping through Gabe’s body without fear. His fingers disappear in the darkness, trying to find something solid of Gabe to hold onto. Which is a lost cause, because Gabriel can’t  _ pull himself together _ -

“Relax.” Jack’s voice is a soft rumble, tinged with sleep and worry, “Why are you fighting it?” 

“I don’t like this form.” Gabriel replies, his own voice hoarse and anguished, “You don’t need a reminder of what I am.” 

Jack’s eyes soften, as does the rest of his face and his hand stays within the depths of Gabriel’s body, “I already know what you are, Gabe. I’m not afraid of it.”

_ Well everyone else is. If anyone saw him like this- _

“Gabe.” Jack mutters, “How much energy do you waste holding yourself together all day?” 

Too much. He knows better, but he can’t. He  _ can’t _ ghost around the condo scaring Jack into an early grave.

“I’m fine.” He hisses.

“No.” Jack replies, “You’re not. Stop hiding.” His hands moves and Gabriel can feel it, scarred and gun-worn, “I want a bed partner, not a ghost. You can be what you are with me, Gabe.” 

His own hand wraps around Jack’s, solid and warm. The rest of him follows until he’s seated beside Jack on the bed. Jack adjusts their hands so fingers can link easily, he drags Gabe down against his bare chest. 

They lay like that for hours, neither of them sleeping. Gabriel watches the smoke leak from his fingers on Jack’s furred pecs. 

It might just be okay.

 

 

-

 

 

Gabriel refuses to go anywhere near Jack’s garden. 

Which Jack finds odd at first, but not everyone is suited to gardening. Gabriel is apparently one of those men. He prefers the cool confinement of the spare bedroom, where his sewing machine is set up. 

Jack leans up against the doorframe of said room, watching Gabriel’s hunched shoulders over the machine. It buzzes silently, fabric spewing from its needle and onto Gabriel’s lap. There are mannequins all over the room, Jack’s old red and blue jacket is hanging from one, Gabriel’s cloak from the other. Bean is seated on Gabriel’s right shoulder, beak preening at the dark, graying hair that is once again below his ears. 

She coos at Jack, who clears his throat and makes himself known. 

Gabe grunts in welcome, hyper focused on the task at hand.

“I’m gonna be gathering veggies today, wanna help?” 

“Uh, no.” Gabriel stops, foot leaving the pedal so he can cast Jack a scrunched up nose, “I’d rather gargle bleach. Thanks.” 

Jack frowns, “Well that’s rude.”

“I don’t do plants, Morrison.” Gabriel points at the clothing, “This is what I’m good at. I’d probably kill any plant I touch and you’re an obsessive bastard about that garden.” 

“They’re  just plants, Gabe.” Jack laughs, “You’re not going to hurt them.”

“Everything I touch dies, Jack.” It’s said with such muted anger that Jack has to pause and fight the overwhelming urge to shout. 

“Stop,  _ saying _ that.” Jack breaks, swipes an arm out angrily, “The plants aren't going to wilt if you touch them.”

“You don’t know that.” Gabriel doesn’t meet anger for anger.

It just pisses Jack off.

“Fine.” He hisses and turns on his heel. 

He snatches the keys from the hook by the door and slams it shut. It’s such a stupid argument, too small to do any real damage, but at the same time-

Jack climbs into the car and pinches the bridge of his nose. His forehead drops onto the steering wheel and he’s so  _ tired _ . 

Retirement is fun, sure, but seriously, what are they doing?

What possessed them to think gardening and  _ sewing _ was going to fix year's worth of bitter resentment between the two of them?

 

 

-

 

 

Gabe waits an hour, seething, until he ventures out of his room and into the kitchen. He can see Jack through the window, shirt sleeves rolled over his shoulders and a basket half filled with veggies at his side. There’s sweat running down the back of his neck, a wet patch down the spine of his shirt. 

Gabe watches for a while, until the basket is full and Jack’s hands are dirty up to the elbows. When he’s finished, Jack just stays there, kneeling in the grass, patting the disturbed dirt back into place. It’s almost like he’s stalling. Avoiding coming back into the house where he’ll have to face Gabriel and the ridiculous outburst from earlier. 

He wonders for a moment, just a moment, if all of this was a bad idea. Was Jack even suited for this kind of life? They’ve both been in service since they were teenagers. They saved the world together and ran one of the biggest hero organizations in the world side by side. It’s been fight after fight after fight for so long, Gabriel doesn't know if this kind of peace could last for the two of them. 

Is it even possible?

Jack still isn’t moving, though his hands have stopped playing with the dirt. 

A knock on the front door carries him into the living room. 

It’s one of the little old ladies from down the way. He peers down at her, trying to be intimidating, but she just blindsides him with a smile.

“Hello young man!” 

Gabriel raises an eyebrow slowly, “Can I help you?”

“Just inviting you over to the recreation center for our taco tuesday tonight.” She grins, waving her hand to the east, “Maybell makes the best fajitas.” 

Gabriel isn’t sure if it’s a good idea. He casts a look at the back door, can see Jack carrying the basket towards the house. The door slides open and Jack spots them, pauses.

“Is everything okay?” He asks.

The woman waves, “Just inviting ya’ll over for fajitas tonight.” 

Jack looks just as uncomfortable as Gabriel feels at the idea.

She senses their hesitation and places a hand on Gabriel’s skin. He almost pulls it back, he’s wearing a t-shirt today and while he’s been ghosting around the house at Jack’s request, he isn’t going to share that with a stranger. 

“No pressure, boys.” She insists, “Just some friendly neighbors potlucking it up. You’re free to join us, we start at five!” 

Gabriel watches her waddle back down to her own home, disappearing around the porch. He shuts the door softly, stares at the handle for a long while as he listens to Jack start washing the vegetables in the sink. 

He joins him after a moment, slips into place at Jack’s side and puts a hand out for whatever Jack is willing to give him. 

Jack does so with an unreadable look and the cucumber, small for the first batch, hovers above Gabriel’s smoking palm. He's afraid to wrap his fingers around it. Afraid it will crumble to dust and all of Jack’s hard work will be for nothing.

“I’m still here.” Jack whispers between them, “You touch me all the time and I’m still alive, Gabriel.” 

Emotion clogs his chest and he takes the cucumber. 

Nothing happens. It stays a dark, vibrant green even as he rinses it under the water flowing from the faucet. 

He catches Jack’s smile, small and soft as he puts the stopper in the sink and fills it up with cool water. 

“Wanna go?” Gabriel clears his throat, takes a few potatoes out of the basket.

“Do I need to make anything?” Jack asks, rubbing his thumb vigorously over a carrot, trying to get the dirt out of the crevices. 

“Nah.” Gabriel shakes his head, “I’ll make some sopapillas.” 

“We have everything you need?” 

Gabriel chuckles, sets the potatoes on the drying mat, “ _ Cariño _ , all I need is tortillas and a sugar mixture.” 

“There’s organic honey in the spice cabinet too.” Jack nods over towards the cabinets by the fridge. 

Gabriel leans over and rubs his nose along Jack’s cheek, “Ah, you read my mind.” 

And just like that, the fight is over.

 

 

-

 

 

The recreation room is buzzing with excitement when they arrive. Gabe is juggling two plastic containers filled with sopapillas and a bag with the honey and sugar. Jack’s kinda glad they both decided to dress casual, since most of the residents are in summer clothes and swimsuits, still dripping from the pool. 

The old lady who invited them spots Jack in his horrible red hawaiian shirt and Gabe in his metallica knock-off and gasps happily.

“Are those what I think they are?” She wheedles, helping Gabriel by taking one of the containers. 

“If you think they’re my mamá’s homemade sopapillas, then you are correct.” Gabriel grins down at her. 

He’s wearing just his beanie tonight, skin on show for all to see. Jack keeps their shoulders touching, eyes the rest of the residents as they eye Gabriel. He scowls at a fair few of them while Gabriel talks to the woman, Regina, he thinks he hears. 

“Go on and take a plate, fill up!” She shoos them towards a white table laden down with crock pots and stacked high with tortillas and veggies.

“Jack has a garden.” Gabriel clears his throat and Jack stops mean-mugging the younger kids to turn their way.

“I do?” Jack grunts, “I do.” 

Regina’s smile brightens, “Next time we can use your own fixins’ then!” She leans forward, wrinkled face nearly cracking with the same smile, “We always have to buy the cheap veggies and well, it’s not the same when it isn’t fresh.” 

Jack smiles back, “I’ll start a fresh patch just for the potluck nights.” 

Gabe elbows him with a matching smile and they bid farewell to Regina. The walk over to the food table is a short one and Gabriel ends up fixing both of their plates. He wraps Jack’s tacos perfectly, dark fingers careful and deft with each one. Jack takes his plate and they wander over to one of the tables. Jack goes back to get drinks after setting his food down.

When he returns, Gabriel is speaking to a younger man, still in swim trunks and holding a half-eaten burrito in his hand.

Jack settles in beside Gabriel, pops the top on the cans and slides one over in the wraiths direction. 

“Maybell said ya’ll were war heroes, kinda wanted to see what the fuss was all about.” The kid shrugs.

“War isn’t a joke, kid.” Jack cuts in, “Especially with what’s going on overseas.”

The kid snorts, takes a bite of his burrito, “Then why aren’t you two there?”

Jack’s stomach twists and the guilt of leaving his team's behind  _ again _ overwhelms to the point of nausea. A hand settles warm and solid on his thigh, squeezes.

“Retired.” Gabriel says in a clipped tone, “We’ve done our part.” 

The kid just shrugs and walks away. 

The hand on his thigh stays throughout the entire event. 

 

 

-

 

 

The condo is dark when they return later in the evening. Bean pulls her head out from under her wing when Gabriel flips the living room light on. She coos softly and Gabe watches Jack walk over and stroke her through the wires of her cage. 

Jack looks tired and just a little irritated. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Gabriel sighs. 

“Long day.” Jack shrugs, parts from Bean’s cage and settles down onto the couch with a heavy huff. 

Gabriel stares down at him. Those blue eyes close and the lines on Jack’s face slacken, his chest rises and falls. 

“Can we really do this?” Jack asks after a moment.

Gabriel walks around the couch to stand at Jack’s feet. He sinks down into Jack’s lap, smoke and all. Jack’s eyes flutter open and his head tips back down so he can look Gabriel in the eye. He looks so old. They’re both so  _ old _ . 

Gabriel cups the sides of Jack’s face with his hands, black leaking down his neck and over his shoulders. Jack doesn’t seem to mind, so he doesn't reel it in.

“Do you really want to go back to that?” Gabriel whispers, pleading. 

Jack’s face twists, “It’s all I’ve ever known.” He waves a hand out around the condo, “This could end up a disaster.” 

“Could end up.” Gabriel presses, “ _ Could _ .” He shakes his head and presses a kiss against Jack’s mouth. Jack’s hands curl into his clothing, twisting into the fabric and mouth opening easily under Gabe’s. 

“Risk it with me.” Gabriel breaths against Jack’s lips, “No more Talon. No more Overwatch. Just me and you and all the parakeets you can ask for.” 

Jack looks torn, his face marred by the scar, three day fuzz and wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. He’s the most beautiful goddamn thing Gabriel’s ever seen. 

“When we-.” Jack swallows visibly, “When we bought this place, I thought you were crazy.” A low laugh leaves him and it vibrates against the hands Gabe holds at his jawline, “We were both so busy, I didn’t see the point in having a vacation house in Pasadena of all places.”

Gabriel grins, slow and sure, “I was very convincing.” 

Jack’s lips twist into a sneer, “You always were.” He pinches the skin at Gabriel’s hip in warning, “I’m not done.” 

“Go on.” Gabriel settles deeper into Jack’s lap, relaxes to the point where his smoke spreads out on the couch and curls around parts of Jack possessively. 

“I don’t care what you’ve done.” Jack whispers, “For now. I don’t care.” Gabriel feels the bite of fingers at his hips, “One day, we can sit down and I can tell you what it was like to be on the run and you can tell me what being a leader to Talon was like.” One hand slides up Gabe’s side, all the way to the side of his face, “In the end, what we’ve done is moot. Empty. In the end-.”

“It’s just Jack and Gabe.” Gabe’s throat tightens, he pulls Jack’s face forward into another kiss. This one desperate, messy.

It’s almost like a promise. 

A promise that they’re going to be alright. 

  
  


 

 

 

  
  
  
  
  
**End**  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Thank you for your continued support, comments, and kudos! And a thousand thanks to those who donated to and bough the zine for our charity!


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